


Tit for Tat

by Velace



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Anti-Hook, F/F, Fluffish, Humor, Mild Language, Smut-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-05-24 18:26:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 20,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6162595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velace/pseuds/Velace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whenever Emma is in trouble, Regina is there to rescue her. Whether it's from magical monsters, men, or something as simple and unlikely to kill her as a minor, somewhat irritating allergy; Regina is there. Always. Honestly, it's starting to freak Emma out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was prompted on tumblr: **I have monster withdrawals :D Do something floofy with food? Pleeeease???**  
> 
> There is, unfortunately, no food but it is fluffy and I figured that was the important part. This also may be the start to a larger fic, as suggested by the beginning and summary, but only after I’ve written the other 3428370 fics I have. Until such a time, it will remain within this series (complete) as a reminder for later.

When Emma first notices Regina doing things for her no sane person would ever expect her to, it is spring and it is warm. It is a time in which Emma usually carries around allergy medication so she doesn’t look—well. So she doesn’t look as she does when she sees Regina sitting at her desk, perusing the file she’d left behind in her haste to get to the pharmacy and verbally abuse Doc for not having the right nasal spray.

Really, what sort of half-baked chemist only carries one kind, and why the hell did it have to be the exact kind she is allergic to? No, she did not want to exchange one allergy for another. She _likes_ being able to taste her food, thank you very much.

“I hear you might be ill,” Regina says casually, eyes flicking up from the report in time to watch Emma rub her nose with the back of her hand because with her current allergies, it _drips_ and _yes_ she prefers that to not being able to smell anything for a month. “And it is indeed as disgusting as I was imagining.”

“Ha,” Emma intones blankly, sniffing as she turns on her heel and makes her way over to the small kitchenette in the corner of the main office.

If Regina wants to insult her, then she can do it while Emma makes herself a disgusting drink that she knows won’t help, but is too desperate not to give it a shot. Surely Enchanted Forest remedies aren’t _that_ different from this worlds, she thinks. She conveniently forgets it had taken her over an hour to explain to her father what allergies were and why she looked as though she’d crawled out of a swamp rather than her bed this morning.

“I wouldn’t drink that if I were you.”

Emma jumps, startled. She wonders if she might be losing her hearing as well before she glances down. She blinks, and then blinks again, her sinuses too stuffed and sending sleepy signals to her brain that means she is expecting far too much from it when she asks herself why Regina is wearing flat-soled boots and not the usual heels Emma always imagines being rammed into her throat whenever she does something stupid and Regina gives her that look.

Shaking her head, which she immediately regrets, Emma grimaces. “What?”

As she forces her gaze up from the boots, she realizes they aren’t the only things different about Regina. Regina, who is wearing what appears to be jeans that somehow look even tighter than Emma’s own, and a burgundy coloured button down shirt that Emma wonders if it is as soft as it appears. She pays a little too much attention to that straining third button she has come to know and love, before she realizes what exactly it is she’s doing and quickly averts her gaze.

When their eyes meet, Regina smirks and inclines her head toward the mug in her hand. “Unless you’d like to do little more sleep for the next month, I wouldn’t drink that.”

Emma quickly raises it to her mouth. Sleeping through her allergies is just a _peachy_ idea, and an idea Regina swiftly shuts down as she waves her hand and freezes Emma in place. “Wudafa?”

“Bless you,” Regina replies as she rounds the counter. “Now, Miss Swan, I would like to help you.”

“‘ow?”

Eyes flashing, Regina smiles mischievously. “I haven’t even touched you yet,” she teases and Emma feels the whine bubbling, threatening to claw its way from her throat and embarrass the ever living shit out of her while Regina cackles.

Because Regina would. Cackle—that is. Witches cackle and Regina froze her with magic, ergo; Regina is a witch.

A cackling witch.

A pretty, cackling witch who is currently touching her.

“'ot?” The spell breaks and Emma sighs, relieved as her shoulders slump. She doesn’t know how long she could have tolerated sounding English.

She almost forgets the drink in her hand, feeling it slip through her fingers before she tightens her grip and places it down on the counter as she stretches her jaw. Her nose tingles and she tries to rub it once more but is stopped by a hand on her wrist.

“May I help you,” Regina questions, eyes a little less crazy as her grin softens into something resembling a smile Emma may or may not get lost it if she keeps staring at it. “Or will you choose to be stubborn today?”

Fingers curl against her wrist and at the firmer touch, Emma’s mind clouds over as words she had in abundance— generally of the cursing Regina to Hell for using magic on her kind —abandon her in favour of wonder, her attention drifting from that smile to that hand. She’d always known Regina would be soft. Regina was far too pretentious to not be the type of person who used lotion every night before bed.

Not that Emma thinks about Regina, before bed or at any other inappropriate moment.

Ha ha.

Nope. Not Emma.

She clears her throat and shrugs. “Can you?”

“Of course,” Regina replies in that oh, so flippant way she does when it comes to magic.

Emma nods. _Of course_ , she thinks. Regina can do anything. _Of course_. She rearranged the moon, stopped an unstoppable diamond meant to trigger the destruction of the town she created with a spell. All by her cackling witch self, _of course_. It’s not like Emma or anyone else helped, or anything. Regina is so awesome, and capable, and so not in need of help that she had even inhaled a death… curse… and survived.

Right. Well.

Regina _did_ inhale a death curse, so maybe healing something as simple as an allergy isn’t quite outside her realm of expertise.

“Kay.”

When the hand moves from her wrist to her cheek, Emma inhales as quietly as she possibly can, which turns out not to be as quiet as she hopes because in the next instance, the smirk is back and even thought abandons her as her eyes helpfully fall to a scar that is almost always prominent, but somehow far sexier up close.

“Pretty.”

Regina chuckles throatily and pats her cheek. Emma grins, lopsided and somewhat delirious. “Is that whiskey I smell, dear?”

Emma squints. She’d gargled half a bottle of mouthwash and practically bathed herself in her father’s cologne before she came in, and there is absolutely no way Regina could possibly know she’d stupidly chugged at least three glasses of whiskey beforehand. “Maybe,” she replies warily.

“Tsk,” Regina chides, though her tone suggests amusement more than anything, and Emma is in wonder once more. She just admitted (technically) to drinking before work to her _boss_ , and that’s all the scolding she gets?

“Who are you and what you have done with Mayor Hardass?”

“Yelling at you for being an idiot would be somewhat akin to kicking a crippled puppy.” Emma gasps and Regina nods, expression mock serious. “Mayor Hardass will return when you are less miserable and not making her feel guilty with your pitiful looking face.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's still staying in this series (complete) as a reminder, I'm just trying to coax the muse back after the last few hellish weeks of pain and more pain, while also trying to clear some of the shit I've written over the years off my computer.

Emma's pitiful face is a thing of the past as she sits in a booth at Grannies. The morning after Regina came to see her at the station, it's as though her allergies never happened. She can breath more clearly, think more freely and isn't in a constant state of wonder as to whether or not the end of her shift will come before she decides to surrender and pass out, face first on to her desk.

Across from her, Regina sits sipping her coffee, brow quirked as she watches Emma relish her newfound appreciation for these months of spring. She's never suffered from allergies herself but after seeing Emma looking more miserable than Snow White when she can't find her Prince Charming, she too has discovered an appreciation of her own in the small, seemingly permanent smile Emma has worn since they sat down.

As the sound of footsteps reach her ears, Regina looks up and smiles as Red appears with their lunch. "One cheeseburger with a side of fries for the Sheriff," she says, "And one pasta dish I refuse to butcher by trying to pronounce, for the Mayor."

Regina smirks. "It is linguine marvini, Miss Lucas, there is very little for you to butcher," she states, glancing at Emma when she feels those familiar eyes on her. "But thank you."

"That's not on the menu," Emma says before Red can respond, pointing at Regina's plate. "I love pasta. I would know."

With a roll of her eyes, Regina teases, "You love food, the fact you've memorized the menu is surprising to no one." Emma continues to stare at her, patiently waiting for an explanation, and Regina sighs. "If you have a problem with the fact Granny likes me enough to cook whatever I ask her to, then take it up with her."

"Don't do it," Red warns, shaking her head as though Emma had already done it and she's now witnessing the aftermath of her stupidity. "You question Gran's affection for Regina, and the next thing you know you're in hospital with a bolt embedded in your butt cheek."

Emma winces and wrinkles her nose while Regina chuckles. She has no idea why Granny treats her the same way she does her granddaughter, but nor does she question it. If it means not having to eat salads every day for lunch, then she'll happily allow the older woman to treat her however she wishes.

"Anyway," Red continues. "Enjoy your lunch, ladies, and give me a holler if you need anything else," she says, her bubbly personality coming to the surface as she turns from them.

She bounces away, disappearing back into the kitchen where she emerges only seconds later with more food and a toothy grin for her next customers. "Weird," Emma notes before biting into her cheeseburger.

Picking up her fork, Regina twirls it round her plate before she questions, "What's weird?"

Emma chews, swallows and replies with a smile, "Your apparent rise in popularity."

Regina gasps, mock offense in her tone. "I've always been popular," she states, lifting her chin in a manner that only she can pull off; haughty, regal, and downright sexy despite the spaghetti that would otherwise ruin the look from anyone else as she shoves it into her mouth.

And to think, Regina calls her a barbarian. Emma shakes her head, lips still quirked in a smile as she says, "Thanks for agreeing to have lunch with me."

Silk-clad shoulders rise in a shrug reminiscent of Emma herself as Regina chews her food before she pauses to respond. "It was such a beautifully worded invitation, how could I not?"

Emma scoffs, eyes rolling and Regina grins, Emma's earlier words repeating themselves in her head. "I came to thank you… with lunch. I mean, if you wanna… eat with me?"  Emma had been frightfully adorable about it and it was true, she couldn't resist.

Regina opens her mouth to tease her further, interrupted by the chime of the bell above the door as in walks Hook. Emma glances over her shoulder at the immediate sneer painting Regina's lips and Regina blinks, snapped from her hate-filled loathing at the quiet groan of distress coming from the blonde's mouth.

Interesting, she thinks.

Hook saunters over to them in full swagger, wearing a grin one might find charming had they previously suffered severe blunt force trauma to the head. "Hello love."

"Killian," Emma replies, perfectly civil unless you know what to look for; spine stiff, jaw clenched, eyes averted. Emma is uncomfortable and, assuming Regina isn't reading her wrong (which she isn't), not in the mood for her usual man drama.

"I was hoping I could join you for lunch," Hook says, glaringly oblivious as he leers down at her.

Regina sneers, all too aware that from his position, he has a perfect view down Emma's shirt. She clenches her fist, knuckles white against her fork as she resists her desire to throw a fireball at his head. How Emma tolerates him on an almost daily basis will forever escape her understanding.

"Sorry," Emma offers, far too sincere for Regina's liking as she feels the metal bend in her hand. "I'm already having a nice lunch with Regina."

"So I see." His eyes flit to Regina, what looks like disgust crossing his features and what little Emma's comment softened her ire is undone when he returns to staring down Emma's shirt and says, "I'm sure her Majesty won't mind the extra company."

"Then perhaps you should make an appointment with Archie," she snaps, glaring daggers at him. Emma follows her gaze and then looks down, rolling her eyes as she leans forward. "Because you've clearly lost your mind if you think I wish to be even remotely anywhere near an unwashed, slimy ignoramus such as yourself."

From the corner of her eye, she catches Emma biting her lip and exerts an impressive amount of willpower by not giving in to her urge to smile. Hook gapes at her, as if her distaste for him is somehow a brand new development. She straightens her spine with a sniff and adds, "The day I willingly sit down to lunch with the man who abducted me and left me to be tortured, will be the day you're dead and I can finally celebrate."

Emma clears her throat and reaches out, placing a hand over hers right as Killian sticks his foot back in his mouth. "You would rather eat with that, than with me?"

Regina grinds her teeth, fingers twitching before Emma entwines them with her own. Surprised, Regina looks at her and sighs at the small, reassuring smile Emma gives. "Before and after learning of the role you played in almost killing the mother of my son," Emma replies calmly, though the undercurrent of anger in her tone isn't gone unmissed by Regina, which is more than can be said for the pirate.

"Unbelievable," he scoffs. He takes a step toward Regina who raises an eyebrow before he frowns, glancing down at the arm that bars him from getting any closer to her.

Regina chuckles at the enraged flare of his nostrils. "She's doing you a favour, moron." She drops her fork, ignoring the abrupt clank of it hitting the table as she lifts the hand not restrained by Emma and conjures a fireball to her palm. "Lest you forget, I can incinerate you where you stand with nary more than a thought."

"I think you should leave Killian," Emma interrupts what Regina assumes is an idiot response as Hook's mouth snaps shut. "Unless you want me to arrest you."

His face contorts as he shouts, "For what?"

Emma tilts her head to stare up at him and in a low, threatening voice says, "Attempted murder, perhaps?"

"Assault," Regina supplies just in case that isn't enough for him.

"Stalking," Emma adds after a moment of thought and Regina nods, recalling that night in this very diner where she'd turned to glance out the window and spotted him across the street, spying on them like the creeper she's always known him to be.

"Would verbal harassment be the same thing or…"

Emma shakes her head. "That's technically not a crime, but it would be evidence as to the kind of character he is once he goes to trial."

"Right. Well, you should probably also make that two counts of attempted murder." Emma looks at her quizzically and Regina reminds, "He shot Belle, remember? I believe he also abducted and abused her as well."

"You're one to t—"

"I think we've heard enough from you," Regina interrupts and flicks her wrist, stealing his voice. "Unlike you, I am trying to atone for my mistakes and it is not by attempting to gain access to what is inside the Savior's pants while claiming her love will make me a better person."

As she finishes, she waves her hand twice more, returning his voice before sending him back to his ship. "What?" she asks upon seeing Emma's grin.

"My love could totally make him a better person."

Regina rolls her eyes. "Of that I have no doubt," she says, ignoring the confusion that enters the emerald gaze as she stands. "You, however, deserve better than that useless piece of trash, and I'll be damned if I allow him the opportunity to take advantage of your complete lack of ability to say no, and actually mean it."

With that, she picks up her purse and adds, "Thank you for lunch, Miss Swan, but I'm afraid I must get back to work."

"Uh." Emma pushes herself up from the booth and glances up over Regina's shoulder to the clock on the wall. "Yeah, me too."

Regina smiles and touches her arm, squeezing lightly before she pulls back. "We should do it again sometime."

A brow rises. "Preferably without…"

Smirking, Regina shakes her head and with a wink replies, "I will gladly put any man in their place if it means lunch with you, dear."

Speechless, Emma stares after her as Regina then turns on her heel with a chuckle and exits the diner.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, okay? STOP WRITING THIS. Tell the muse, yeah? She thinks I should be happy with the 1K of Homecoming I wrote earlier this morning. I'm too tired to argue... and lazy, with a side of can't be bothered. I'm writing. Let's be happy about that.

Emma isn't a huge fan of early morning visitors. Mornings are reserved for waking up and she likes to use as much of them as she can to do so. Not once in her life has she ever gotten out of bed the first time her alarm goes off. When she finally does get up though, she'll shower, get dressed, and make something to eat, then spend the next hour or two caffeinating herself for the day ahead.

Mornings are not for people, especially not unannounced people who decide to knock on her door just as she's getting out of bed.

She ignores it, knowing that if it's important, whoever is bothering her this early in the morning will eventually break down her door. It's happened enough times before. She minds less now that she knows she can fix it with a simple wave her hand. She only hopes whoever it is refrains from injuring themselves like her father had because it is definitely too early to be healing people.

Moving down the hall to her bathroom, she closes the door and hops into the shower as she turns her mind to what she'll be having for breakfast this morning.

 

.

.

.

 

Toothbrush dangling from her mouth, Emma rounds the corner into the kitchen, and freezes. Regina smiles brightly upon noticing her.

"Good morning."

"Uh…" She holds up a hand and turns on her heel, practically sprinting back to the bathroom where she spits in the sink and rinses her mouth out.

Rounding the corner a second time, she blinks. She can't have been more than two minutes, yet somehow Regina has managed to fill her counter with all sorts of food. With little more than a glimpse, she spots pancakes, bacon and those little grilled breakfast sausages she loves but can never seem to find unless she ventures out of town to a grocery store that isn't stuck in the 1980s.

"Shall we try this again?" Regina questions, sounding amused. " _Good morning_ , Emma."

Clearing her throat, Emma wipes her chin just incase her fears are real and she _is_ drooling. She isn't. Thankfully. "Morning?"

"I thought you might be hungry."

"So you br— came over and made me breakfast?" She prays Regina ignores the slip. If anyone is welcome in her home whenever the mood strikes, then it's Regina. Were her brain functioning correctly, the idea of Regina breaking into her house wouldn't have crossed her mind even once.

With a lift of her shoulder and a small smile, Regina gestures to a stool beside the counter. It isn't the explanation she was hoping for, but Emma sits. Whatever the reason, she'd have to be stupid to deny herself the pleasure of Regina's talented cooking.

"Henry tells me you have the day off."

Sausage halfway to her mouth, she pauses to nod before taking a bite. Why Henry is sharing her schedule with his mother is beyond her but she decides it's too early in the morning for questions. She'll enjoy the opportunity for a decent breakfast, happy to not be stuck eating the cereal she'd settled on while shampooing her hair.

"You?"

"Until this afternoon," Regina says, leaning back against the counter. "Spoken to the boy toy recently?"

Emma grimaces and ducks her head. She really wishes Regina wouldn't call him that. "Not since the diner," she admits. "I think he might be avoiding me." Which, to be completely honest, doesn't bother her one bit.

"Good." She nods before she actually registers the word, then freezes and peers up at her. Regina smiles sweetly. "What?"

"Good," she repeats, questioning, "I understand why, now more than I did before, but you really don't like him, do you?"

Shrugging, Regina replies, "He's a sleazy neanderthal who thinks he's God's gift to women. What, precisely, do you think there is about him _to_ like? His inability to understand the meaning of the word no? His selfish need to be rewarded any time he does something halfway decent? Perhaps it is his constant betrayal that I should find appealing?"

Emma raises her hands, sorry she'd asked though smart enough not to say as much out loud. She understands where Regina is coming from. She hadn't really thought about it on account of everything else that goes on. She knows she overlooks a lot when it comes to who she dates, but that's always been the kind of person she is. She isn't looking for some long term commitment. Killian was a distraction for when the rest of her life was too serious or complicated.

He was easy and, sometimes, that's what she needed but if she'd known he upset Regina this much— well; Neverland probably would have been a one time thing.

Perhaps it is time she stop stringing him along.

Shoving what little remains of the sausage into her mouth, she stands, ignoring Regina's curious stare as she wanders off in search of her phone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters because they're short, connected, and I'm over trying to tell my muse no.

The force of a hand crashing into her stomach sends Emma flying. Her lids flutter as she braces herself for impact. Back hitting the pavement, pain wracks her body and steals the breath from her lungs. She should have waited for backup, she knows it, but now isn't the time for berating herself.

There's a troll rampaging down Main Street, destroying cars and anything else it can get its hands on. Regina will have her head if she doesn't get up and deal with it.

"Emma!"

She cracks an eye open. Speak of the devil.

A grimace contorts her face when she tries to laugh, ribs protesting the movement. Regina crosses the road to her and falls to her knees. Hands grab Emma's face and she whines, struggling to free herself from them.

"Stop that." A warm tingling begins in her cheeks before spreading down her neck and into her chest. She hisses as not one, but three ribs pop back into place. "Either open both of your eyes or close the current one. You look like the idiot you are."

Groaning, she decides to close it. She'd say something snarky if she could find the energy. "Where?"

"Asleep." Both eyes pop open in disbelief. Regina sniffs, one hand falling to the crook of her neck as the other presses into her stomach. "Don't look at me like that. You're the idiot who decided to try hand to hand combat with a troll."

Emma rolls her eyes, or tries to, at least. Everything hurts. "I tried magic. It brushed it off."

"She," Regina corrects, growing paler by the second. Emma waits another minute, then gently touches the hand on her stomach, ending the continued flow of magic. Regina slumps, relief relaxing her spine as she says, "Trolls are resistant to fire."

Nodding, Emma pushes herself up, her own relief filling her when the only thing she feels besides the small ache in her ribs is that tingling warmth. "Thanks for saving me," she murmurs, a self-depreciating smile on her lips when she jokes, "Again."

Regina nods, throat bobbing with her swallow. Her head jerks up as fingers curl and Emma holds her hand more firmly. Emma taps into her magic, sending some of it back. She watches the colour return to Regina's cheeks and smiles more genuinely once she lets the hand go.

She wonders if she imagines Regina's face falling before she entwines her hand with the one still at her neck and guides it down into her lap. She holds it with both hands, squeezing gently as she turns her head, a puff of laughter escaping her mouth when she sees the troll curled up, asleep just as Regina had said, in the middle of the road.

"Where'd she come from?"

"Your imbecile boyfriend opened a portal to the Enchanted Forest," Regina growls as she attempts to extract her hand. Emma tightens her hold, earning herself a soft sigh. Whether it's in annoyance or something else, she isn't sure, but Regina stops trying, arm falling limp. "Why didn't you call? I would have been here sooner."

Emma shrugs, having asked herself that question numerous times already. "You already answered that yourself," she drawls wryly, "I'm an idiot." Dark lips quirk with a grin. "Sorry about the portal— that was probably my fault."

"Does this mean you've finally rid this family of him?" Emma inclines her head. "Perhaps not such an idiot after all."

"Yeah." She sighs. She really should have done it sooner. If she'd known how he'd react, she _would_ have. "He's an ass."

Regina snorts. "That's an understatement." Emma nods and squeezes her hand once more before she attempts to stand. Regina places the hand on her thigh when she winces. "We're in no rush. She'll remain asleep for a while yet and your parents along with Rumple should have stabilized the portal by now."

Conceding with another nod, Emma slumps back to the ground. "I should have stayed in bed." She would have had her phone not blown up with messages and voicemails about some monster ravaging the town.

"And left us to clean up your mess? You're not that terrible a savior," Regina teases her. She hangs her head because sometimes she wishes she was and that's probably not something she should admit to. "What you need is a very large, very black coffee. When you're up to it, we'll go to Granny's. My treat."


	5. Chapter 5

Whenever Emma is in trouble, Regina is there to rescue her. Whether it's from magical monsters, men, or something as simple and unlikely to kill her as a minor, somewhat irritating allergy; Regina is there. Always. Honestly, it's starting to freak her out.

It's been a week since they sent the troll back to the Enchanted Forest and Regina is still here, in her house, making sure she eats properly, giving her days off work she doesn't really need. Emma appreciates it all, but it's a bit over the top and extremely unnecessary. She's tried to tell Regina that, but all that gets her is a look of reproach and a feeling in her gut that somehow manages to convince her she's being ungrateful even though she's really _really_ not.

She kinda likes living with Regina and Henry. Her house feels more like _home_ than it ever has and she knows it's because of them. For a while now, there's been this sort of silent agreement between her and Regina that they're family now. Like it or not, they share a son who binds them in a way neither of them really wanted but they've slowly come to accept and now it's just… they belong.

She finally belongs, and it's freaking her the fuck out. They never agreed to this, silent or otherwise. They're friends, good friends— best friends, even. They're not… _this_ , whatever _this_ is; her coming home from work exhausted while Regina fusses over her like some loving housewife.

"Emma?"

"What," she snaps with a jump, startled. Regina raises a brow and she flushes, sheepish. "Sorry, you surprised me."

Regina hums, eying her as though she doesn't quite believe her. "Dinner," she repeats, "I was wondering what you'd like since Henry won't be here to decide for us."

"Um." She glances down at her stomach, not sure she'll be able to eat with the thoughts going through her head. She sighs, knowing how well _that's_ going to go over. "I uh… I'm not really hungry," she says, deciding to risk it and bracing herself for what's to come.

"Alright."

She blinks and slowly turns her head, just in time to watch Regina disappear around the corner. Emma sucks in her lower lip. She didn't sound upset or worried, but still— Regina had shown up at her office to yell at her for skipping meals yesterday all because she'd forgotten to grab the lunch Regina packed for her the night before.

Eyes narrowing, she goes to stand but then Regina is rounding the corner, talking on her phone. Emma quickly sits back down, brow furrowing when she realizes the words coming out of Regina's mouth are… an order? For pizza?

Thanking the person on the other end, Regina tosses her phone onto the coffee table before she sits next to her. Emma stares silently.

"What?"

"What," she echoes, disbelief making her voice a decibel or two higher than it needs to be. "The one time you order pizza just happens to be when I say I'm not hungry?"

Regina shrugs. "I didn't feel like cooking for just myself," she reasons. "Besides," she adds, summoning the TV remote to hand. "I assumed you'd be happy to eat it cold later when you are hungry."

That… makes sense. Emma frowns.

Still frowning ten minutes later, Regina sighs, more loudly than necessary in Emma's opinion, and questions, "What is wrong _now_?"

"Nothing," she denies swiftly, forcing her gaze from the smooth plains of Regina's face as she feigns interest in the program currently playing out on her TV screen. She groans upon realization of what it is Regina is watching. "This show sucks. The vampires are stupid looking."

Something solid hits her shoulder. She glances down to find it's the remote. "Yeah," she drawls, pushing the hand clutching it away from her. "I'm not falling for that again." She'd take it, and then Regina would sit there sighing for as long as it takes her to cave before she gives it back.

Sniffing, Regina sets the remote in her lap and replies, "Shut up then."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another because it was so damn easy, short, and I am extremely weak-willed.

"Too early, too early," Emma grumbles. "Too fucking early." Throwing open the door, she shakes her head and slams it shut again. Definitely too early for that.

"Emma?"

"Too early," she repeats, loud enough for her mother to hear through the door.

She passes Regina on the stairs where she skilfully dodges the hand that makes a grab for her. Hearing Regina curse, she hesitates at the top only briefly before she grunts and shakes her head. If Regina wants to answer the door and let her mother in, then Regina can be the one to suffer the consequences of her own choices.

"Don't answer it," she warns before returning to her bedroom. She falls back into bed and rolls around until she's wrapped up, nice and snug, in her mountain of blankets.

Why people believe she should be awake hours before she starts work is a mystery. Why else would she have taken the afternoon shift, if not to sleep in? It's as if these people don't even _know_ her.

Peering up at her alarm and seeing it read 7:15, she grimaces and rolls over. That's at least three more hours she could have slept and avoided thinking about the fact that after two weeks, Regina is _still_ living in her house.

Why, she has yet to muster up the courage to ask. It doesn't bother her, but it _is_ confusing.

Regina has her own house, a much nicer house. She can accept the idea of Regina caring about her enough to stay a week and make sure she's healed properly, but two; when it was obvious to both of them the very next day after she was injured that she was perfectly fine? Granted, she'd been a bit sore but that was to be expected when you've been thrown into a building hard enough to break three ribs.

At this point, she doesn't even care if Regina intends to live with her permanently, she'd just like to _know_ so she can stop being surprised when she wakes up every morning to Regina and what she'd slept in the night before.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Emma tries to shake the most recent image from her head. She wasn't even aware she'd been paying enough to attention to notice the negligee, let alone recall precisely how far up Regina's thigh it was.

With a groan, she tugs her outermost blanket up over her head. She should _not_ know exactly what Regina looks like in the morning before she's showered and dressed, or what she looks like in a towel— or at night, when Regina takes her bra off and does absolutely nothing to hide the fact they both forgot to turn on the heating when they came home.

And she certainly shouldn't enjoy knowing all of those things.

"Emma?" Ignoring Regina in the vain hope she'll go away of her own volition, Emma feigns sleep. "I've been here long enough to know that once you're awake, you're awake."

As her bedroom door swings open, she rolls over. "Perceptive," she drawls, "wanna medal?"

Eyes rolling, Regina replies, "Your mother has some news to share with you."

"Is it that she's moving to Alaska? Because if so, I'm going with her."

"No," she deadpans.

Emma shrugs. "In that case, I'm not interested." Rolling back towards the wall, she feels her mattress dip a moment later and frowns, glancing over her shoulder. "What are you doing?"

"Sitting," Regina replies, hand out. A crossword and pen materialize in her palm as she explains, "She wants to talk to you, not me. I have no reason to go back down there."

Biting her lip, Emma shifts until she's back on her other side and teases, "You're a terrible hostess."

"Mmm," Regina hums, making herself comfortable as she brings her legs up onto the bed and crosses her ankles.

"I told you not to open the door."

"You should have told me to open it," she counters, gaze fixed to her crossword. "I would have ignored you then too."

Laughing, Emma nudges her with a knee. "You could go to your own room," she murmurs, eyes drawn to an olive thigh.

"My room?" Regina repeats, amused. "Finally throwing me out, are you?"

Cheeks warm, Emma shakes her head. If Regina wants to leave, she can leave, but it won't be because she's gone and said something stupid. "No," she murmurs. "I meant your room here."

"Ah." Uncrossing her legs as she bumps the lump that is Emma, Regina tucks a foot under her leg and leaves her knee resting against the mountain of blankets. "Your room is bigger."

"That might have something to do with the fact it's my house."

She pouts. "And here I was thinking you were warming up to me," she says, feigning innocence in the next breath as she questions, "Are we not yet roommates?"

Emma laughs outright. "Hey, if you wanna sleep in here, that's fine by me but I aint leaving." Noting her raised brow, she quickly adds, "I also snore."

Regina shrugs, countering casually, "I sometimes kick."

"I hog the blankets."

Smirking, she peers down at her, eyes sweeping the length of Emma's body before she settles once more on her face. "I suppose I'll simply have to cling to you for warmth." ~~~~


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to add Snow to this. She ruins everything. There's a conversation I didn't write that you'll have to imagine yourself, and thanks to this chapter, I guess you can put all this happening around mid-season 3.

Regina wasn't kidding about the clinging, though Emma can hardly blame her considering they'd fallen asleep on the couch rather than in one of the beds. She'll have to remember to strangle Snow later when she's more awake and less interested in the comfortable warmth that surrounds her; Emma is like a giant, hot water bottle— emphasis on the hot.

"Liar." The murmur startles her and she jerks, accidentally kicking Emma. Emma chuckles, reaching beneath the blanket covering them to rub at her shin. "I spoke too soon."

"Serves you right," she mutters. Call her a liar and make her think she'd said that highly inappropriate thought out loud. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah," Emma sighs, sitting up. She runs a hand through her hair before she turns to Regina and says, "Sorry for…" She gestures at nothing specific. "—all of that."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Regina assures, joining Emma as she sits up and swings her legs over the side of the couch. She drapes the blanket across them both and leans back. "Your mother is an idiot."

Emma grins at her. "Must be genetic."

"Indeed," she agrees, only in Emma's case, her idiocy is oft times endearing rather than selfish and asinine like her mother's. "Are you—"

"I'm fine," Emma interrupts. Her smile is small but Regina has learned to differentiate between those which are fake, and those which are not; this one is genuine. "I just… I had to get it out, you know? I'm good now. I'm going to be a big sister— I'm happy for them, for all of us."

"Well there goes my plan to strangle her."

Snow's news wasn't exactly a surprise after Neverland but Regina had clearly given her former nemesis too much credit in thinking she had slightly more tact than someone who might scream _we're having a baby_ at her still half-asleep child who, until a little over three years ago, thought she'd been abandoned on the side of the road by deadbeat parents who didn't want her.

Emma bumps their shoulders together. "I'm sure she'll do something else to warrant it sooner or later."

Regina concedes the point with a nod. Her desire to horrifically maim Snow has lessened over the years, but every once in a while it comes back, stronger than ever. She supposes she can't be _too_ upset; it did result in Emma falling asleep in her arms, after all.

"I always assumed you'd take after your father."

Gasping dramatically, Emma holds a hand to her chest. "Are you saying I'm _not_ charming?"

"Your father is about as charming as an incontinent mental patient with a drinking problem, so no." Her laughter sends a flutter through Regina's stomach. She ignores it as she adds, "What your mother was thinking with that nickname, I'll never know."

David is only mildly less of an idiot than his wife.

Emma does have his smile though.

Sighing, she brushes the thought aside and pushes away the blanket as she stands. Looking down at herself, she chuckles. It has to be nearing lunch time and she's still in her pajamas. "Only with you, Emma Swan," she murmurs, more to herself but still loud enough that Emma hears her and responds.

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Whistling, she stands with her and grins, stretching as she says, "You should show off those legs more often, Mills."

Feeling her cheeks redden, Regina swats her arm with the back of her hand. Her eyes drift down as Emma's tank rides up. She catches a glimpse of her stomach and averts her gaze. "Hungry?"

"Yeah but I'm probably already late for work. I'll grab something from the diner on my way."

"No you won't." At her confused look, Regina explains, "I called your father while you were… busy. He agreed to cover for you."

"Oh I bet mom loved that when she got home."

She grimaces. "What your mother may or may not love is not my concern. You needed time to process."

"Mhmm."

"What?"

"I'm starting to think you just want to keep me all to yourself."

"You're not the worst company I've ever had," Regina drawls. Emma's increasingly smug expression forces her to add, "Not by much, mind."

It is a lie, but Emma doesn't need to know that.

Making her way to the kitchen, Emma follows, grousing under her breath, "Terrible hostess, terrible friend—"

"Wonderful cook," Regina interrupts, voice airy, "who just offered to make you food."

Humming thoughtfully as she takes a seat at the counter, Emma replies, "You did do that, didn't you?"

"Mhmm."

Nodding, she offers, "I'm willing to overlook your terribleness…" She pauses, her eyes raking over Regina as Regina chews the inside of her cheek to stifle a laugh. "—if you agree to continue wearing that while you cook."

"I hear the advantages for you," she says. She will, of course, conveniently leave out the fact she had no intention of changing. "I have yet to hear any for me."

"That's fair."

As she moves about the kitchen gathering the ingredients for what she plans to make, Emma sits with a thoughtful look on her face. Regina is about to take pity on her when she snaps her fingers and says, "I will ogle you with utmost respect and shower you with compliments while I stuff my face?"

"Hmm." She's heard worse proposals, believe it or not. There is a certain matter she'll need to clear up before she accepts, though. She shakes her head and watches Emma's face fall before she counters, "I'm afraid I'll need a sample of those compliments."

"Uh…" Emma flails wordlessly, cheeks red. It doesn't take her long, however, to come up with something. "If that negligee was any shorter, I'd be in heaven?"

Regina throws her head back and genuinely, truly, cackles.

"Deal."


	8. Chapter 8

If anyone ever told Emma she'd one day virtually have to carry Regina home she'd— well, look at them strangely, for one, then maybe have them committed. After their one time brush with the absurd when she saved Regina from the fire, she'd decided she was never doing that again and yet…

"Why am I carrying you, again?"

"Because I'm drunk," Regina replies, nodding to herself as if that were reason enough.

Emma smiles. It _is_ reason enough, if it were actually true. She's pretty sure Regina drank less than she did. She doesn't even sound drunk, let alone drunk enough to warrant not having to walk.

With how the past week's been going though, Emma has her suspicions. After that afternoon in her kitchen, she's started putting the pieces together. The lengths Regina goes to to express her feelings without actually having to express them are borderline mental, but no less appreciated than those of someone a slight bit saner.

The comments, the various states of undress, those small smiles whenever Emma says something that might be construed as even somewhat flirty; those were all perfectly normal, if vaguely odd because this is Regina, who is by far _not_ the most normal person Emma has ever known.

But the return flirting? The touching? The almost stalking that's not quite stalking because her presence is wanted, and loved, and comforting regardless of her intentions? Crazy. This carrying Regina's not so drunk ass from the car and up the walkway is merely one instance in a long line of many that has resulted in Emma opening her eyes to what, she has no doubt, everyone else would see as really, _really_ fucking obvious.

Regina likes her.

Not just likes her, but _likes_ her.

It's not quite as weird as she'd have thought.

It might even be nice.

"Are you sure it's not because you're lazy?"

"Mmm."

It's not an answer, not really, but with how distracted she seems to be with her bicep, Emma is content not to call her out on it.

"Well, we're here, Your Majesty; home, safe and sound," she says as she attempts to put her down. Regina clings to her, refusing to let go. "I need my keys, Regina."

"I'll get them."

Husky, warm and whispered into her ear, Emma shivers while her mind short-circuits. That was another thing Regina keeps doing; talking to her in _that_ voice. It does a number on her every. Single. Time.

"Right, back pocket," she croaks a split second before she feels the hand cop a feel, and squeaks. "Inside the pocket, Regina."

"My mistake."

The amusement in her tone says it wasn't a mistake at all, which Emma considers mentioning before she feels the fingers slip into her pocket and it's somehow _worse_ than being outright groped.

Swallowing thickly, she murmurs, "Any day now."

"You're no fun," Regina replies, pouting as she dangles the keys in her face. Emma raises a brow before tilting her head, gesturing for her to unlock the door. "Slave driver."

She laughs. "Says the perfectly sober person making me carry her."

Sliding the key into the lock, without fumbling even once; Emma notes, Regina lifts her head, chin tilted as she responds haughtily, "No one is _making_ you do anything."

Eyes rolling, she forgoes pointing out the whole _clinging_ and fact Regina would incinerate her if she dared to even think about magicking herself out of the monkey-like grip around her neck.

"Uh huh." As Regina twists the knob, Emma shoves the door open with the toe of her boot. "Where to, Highness?"

Head falling to her shoulder, Regina yawns. "Those titles are not interchangeable, I am neither a Prince nor a Princess."

Sighing, Emma drawls, "Answer the question, woman."

"Bedroom. Yours."

Emma is halfway to the stairs before the second part is added, where she stops suddenly to look at her. Nope, still not drunk. "That's a bit premature, don't you think? You didn't even buy me dinner."

"Were you not being an idiot and that were my intention…" She pauses with a smirk before she adds, "and you were truly that easy—" Emma gasps, mock offended. "— I feel I should point out I have cooked you dinner almost every night for nearly a month now."

"Point," she concedes, quiet as she ascends the stairs, considering. She'd stopped questioning Regina's presence that day in the kitchen. Perspective, she's found, does wonders for her mental health. Taking the corner to her room, she asks, "Why my room?"

"I might throw up and choke on my own vomit during the night."

She grimaces. Unrealistic as the probability is, she'd rather not think about it. "That's an attractive thought."

Regina raises her head, eyes narrowed. "You dare mock my potential suffering?"

Hiding her smile, Emma retorts, "What potential? You're not drunk and you're terrible at pretending otherwise."

Scoffing, Regina glares as she says, "I am a master of pretend."

"Sure," Emma agrees because she _is_ , "when you're pretending to hate people." Regina's face contorts with the beginnings of outrage but Emma doesn't let her get a word in as she continues, "You're a suck fake drunk— you're not even slurring or saying stupid shit."

Mouth closing, Regina frowns. Her lips part once, then twice, before offering, "I like your face?"

Emma blinks slowly, uncertain if she should be offended or not. Setting Regina down on her bed, she straightens and questions, "Was that stupid, or shit?"

Flicking the light on with a wave of her hand, she sees the blush covering Regina's cheeks when she admits, "Neither."

Grinning, Emma shakes her head. "See. You suck." Gesturing to Regina's clothes, she adds, "Do your thing," and disappears into her wardrobe.

Emerging a few minutes later in a black tank and green boy shorts, she tosses her clothes into the laundry basket by the door before she notices Regina, still dressed, still on her bed, frowning at her.

"What?"

"You don't like my outfit?"

Chin hitting her chest as she hangs her head, she tries not to laugh. She, partly, succeeds before she takes a breath and raises her head. She's lost count of how many times she's taken in the outfit during their night out— how many times she'd felt that burning flicker of jealousy whenever she'd caught anyone else checking Regina out.

"We've been over this." She admits, "You're unfairly sexy in leather, the same as you were the last six or so times you went fishing for compliments and I had to stop myself from drooling at the sight while providing them— now stop being difficult, and put on your damn pajamas so we can go to sleep."

Teeth grazing a lower lip, Regina grins, smug as she teases, "Someone's touchy."

"Tired," Emma corrects, crawling onto the bed and over top of her. She thinks little of it, then can think of nothing other than the sensation of a warm, soft hand brushing against her thigh as she rolls on to her back and stares up at the ceiling.

The light flickers off.

"Sweet dreams, Em-ma."

The scent of magic in her nose, she closes her eyes with a small smile and murmurs, "the sweetest."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a turn that I was not expecting. I probably should have because it's me and... because it's me, yeah, we all know where this is going.

"What's wrong with ma?"

Regina glances up from her paperwork. Taking in Henry's amused expression, she smirks and jokes, "What's _right_ with her?"

He rolls his eyes, just like she expects him to. He's getting to that age where he no longer thinks she's the funniest person in the world. It would be heartbreaking, if it didn't mean her and Emma get to team up on him more often; Team Moms, embarrassing their little boy as revenge for his sullen, teenage temper and terrible sense of humour.

Walking over to her, he falls to the cushion beside her and asks, "Why's she sitting outside?"

Frowning, she raises a shoulder. Last she knew, Emma was at work. Glancing up at the clock, her frown deepens. Work for Emma finished more than an hour ago and she didn't even know she was home. "Does she look upset?"

He shakes his head. "She looks kinda… lost in thought?"

"Uncharted territory?" She suggests, winking when she catches the small twitch of his mouth. "Why don't you go check on dinner while I check on your mother?"

Not needing an answer because she knows he will, she rises and makes her way to the front door. Emma glances back when it opens and she smiles faintly. Regina takes it as a good sign before she sits down, only to then realize Emma is otherwise ignoring her.

That, she decides, is a criminal offense right there.

Regina nudges her with an elbow and Emma breathes through her nose deeply enough to be audible but not quite deep enough to be considered a sigh, not yet. It's the minute difference between the two that prevents Regina from dumping a bucket of water over her head; sigh at her when she's the one out here worrying people with her odd behavior.

"Yes?"

"Our son would like to know what's wrong." Emma has to side-eye her before she concedes, "I too would like to know, if it's not too much trouble for you."

Emma leans back, arms behind her and holding her up. Going from having none of her attention to having all of it at once, Regina soaks it in. The way Emma has begun to look at her recently causes so many sensations to rush through her that she _needs_ the time to process them lest they overwhelm her.

It isn't too unalike how Emma used to look at her, except now there is this _knowing_. It thrills and relieves her in equal measure. She'd started to wonder if Emma would ever see— if she would ever understand. Now that Regina thinks she might, it is _intoxicating_ ; to be gazed at with such adoration, to see her affections returned and the growing warmth in those eyes.

"Nothing wrong, per se." She raises a brow, more curious now than a moment ago. If nothing is wrong, then perhaps her question to Henry was more appropriate than she thought. "I've been thinking…"

"And we're not to find this disconcerting?" She teases, grinning. The twitch of Emma's mouth matches that of their son's, down to the very dimple that appears briefly. "What, she dare asks guaranteed to regret this very decision, are you thinking so hard about, Miss Swan?"

"You."

She tries not to let her surprise show. She might have guessed had she spent any time at all actually considering the question herself. It's been a month; a month since she decided she was done waiting for Emma to 'see the light', as one might say, were one a complete imbecile. A month since she showed up at Emma's door and demanded she let her take care of her. It's been two weeks since she'd stopped catching Emma giving her weird, confused looks, two weeks since Emma started flirting with her, and a week since she talked her way into Emma's bed and has since not been asked to leave it.

She might have guessed, if she were anywhere near as dense as Emma chooses to be.

"Oh?"

Emma smiles before laughing and shaking her head. "You can drop the act, Regina," she says, giving her _the_ look. It's a new one, borne as a result of their night out, in which Emma reminds her of how terrible she is at pretending. "I'm slow, I know."

"You said it," she drawls, glancing away, mouth quirked. She'd never be so cruel. Out loud. "Would you like to share your conclusions, or shall I tap into my imagination and leave you to it?"

A soft snickering is her answer.

"If your imagination is anything like mine, I wouldn't advise it," Emma warns, laughing again as Regina whirls to face her, eyes widening in slow realization and terrible, awful fascination. Emma nods, as if to confirm the thoughts that have likely scrawled themselves across her face. "It's very distracting."

"I—" haven't the slightest fucking clue what to say. If she's understanding this right, then Emma is out here because she's _fantasizing_ about her. "I feel dirty. I think I need a shower."

Emma clears her throat. "If you're trying to deter me…"

Regina shakes her head. "Emma Swan, you are a pervert."

And she is thoroughly intrigued.


	10. Chapter 10

"Madam Mayor."

Turning from the window where she'd just seen Emma enter the building from below, Regina reaches across her desk for the intercom. "Isabella."

"The Sheriff is here to see you."

She smiles. "Tell her I'm not here."

Rather than her secretary, it's Emma's voice that comes through next. "I heard that."

Her smile widens. The playfully chiding tone is enough to let her know Emma's good mood from this morning has yet to be extinguished. "In that case," she drawls, "go away."

"But Reggie," Emma whines, "it's lunch time and I brought food."

Regina twitches irritably. Emma knows she hates that nickname. "Call me that again," she threatens, voice low as she growls into the intercom, "and that food is going to be shoved somewhere far more uncomfortable than your mouth."

"You're so sweet."

She sighs, smile curling her lips once more. "Get in here, you fool."

Her door opens a couple of seconds later as Emma's voice rings through her office, "Honey, I'm not home and neither are you."

It's the same joke every time and still, somehow, her heart clenches in affection for this absurd woman. With a groan, Regina steps out from behind her desk. "Each day I question more and more why I put up with you."

"Reasons." Emma wiggles her eyebrows as she saunters across the room. She dumps their lunch on the coffee table before throwing herself onto the couch. "Sexy, secret reasons."

Despite its truth, the ease with which Emma uses it to tease her is plain offensive. She's the witty, sarcastic bitch who uses people's weakness against them, not Emma.

"Give me my lunch, and get out."

"You can have one," Emma says, leveling her with a pointed finger. She waves it ridiculously. "Not both."

Regina bites her lip as she saunters over to her. It's almost impossible not to laugh when Emma is in this good a mood. Really, it's all terribly appalling. Emma Swan is not amusing. As their son would say, Emma Swan is a doofus. "Get out."

Emma makes an obnoxiously loud buzzing sound. "I'm sorry, Madam Mayor, you chose wrong and I'm afraid we're all out of time. Tune in next time—"

"Stop," she begs, dropping to the cushion next to her. She covers her face because _really_ , she should not want to laugh as hard as she does. She shouldn't. She's the Mayor, what will people think? Her secretary is an uncontrollable gossip. People might accuse her of becoming soft or, worse, nice.

She shudders.

Emma waits for her to peer through her fingers, then tilts her head. "Too funny?"

"Too idiotic, my desire to drown you is at an all time high."

Sighing wistfully, mocking her without words, the words follow, "Your voice is like music, each syllable you utter; such honey, so lyrical."

Head shaking, Regina leans forward and plucks a bag from the table, peeking inside it. "I don't remember you ever being this annoying."

"Must be the happiness," Emma replies, leaning back, watching her. "It's going to my head."

"Hmm." Regina wrinkles her nose. Dismissing the food she finds in the first bag, she reaches for the second and sighs, finding a happiness all of her own as she extracts the small basket of fries from within.

"Thief." Waving her off, Regina slumps back, not quite as disgusting as Emma manages when she grabs a handful and shoves them into her mouth. Emma snickers regardless. "How's your day been?"

"Bereft of idiots," she mumbles, thoroughly revolted with herself.

Living with Emma has ruined her.

"I have the best timing."

"Indeed."

"Wanna drink?" Looking around, Regina frowns. Emma notices. "I left them in the car," she explains and gestures, conjuring a root beer in each hand. She lightly shakes one, taunting her. "Nom nom."

"I hate you." Another weakness, one Emma never should have known about. She snatches it from her while adding their son to the mental list she's compiling of people who'll need to suffer at some point, then groans and thrusts it back. "Open."

"Yes, Master." Taking it from her, Emma lifts her hips and snaps the cap off with her belt, and passes it back.

Regina is, in the simplest term possible; distracted.

"What?"

She hums, indulging in the images dancing around in her mind. Emma is rubbing off on her in more ways than one. "You're not the only one with fantasies, Swan."

Laughing, Emma reaches over and steals a few fries. "I am officially interested, Mills."

Regina smirks. "Don't we need a phone for this?"

Not shy in the least, Emma says, "For phone sex and sexting, sure. Dirty talk and fantasies can be shared however, and wherever we like."

Chewing the inside of her cheek, Regina considers her response. She never would have dared to imagine the two of them having this conversation when she woke up this morning. It's her curiosity that has her deciding; what the hell? "I'd prefer a dim room and a comfortable bed."

When Emma gazes at her this time, it's still with affection but hidden beneath hooded lids and combined with something far less innocent. "I pegged you as more as an up against the wall, whispered in your ear kinda woman."

Her stomach flips and her mouth dries. She croaks, "That too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that scene in Pirates of the Caribbean where Will and Elizabeth are being all gross and Barbossa yells at them because he just wants them to fucking kiss already so he can bless their marriage? He is me.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone noticed, and is wondering, I removed the crack tag because I forgot how much it pisses me off when people refer to SQ using it. We might not share the same opinion about which relationships were the most meaningful or interesting, but I think a majority of this fandom will agree there have only ever been two joke relationships on that shit show, and Swan Queen was never one of them.

_"I had a dream once about you storming into my office and demanding I, quote;_ mount the desk and ready myself _. Unquote."_

_Emma chokes on her drink, laughing. She can't believe they're having this conversation, but they are and the things she's learned about Regina in the last hour are pure gold. "When was this?"_

_"After you saved me from the fire." Regina rests her head against the back of the couch, almost wistful as she says, "When you were carrying me— I was swooning on the inside."_

_Emma snorts. "That would've been nice to know at the time, considering you were an absolute bitch on the outside."_

_"I had an image to uphold," Regina counters defensively. "You were a pain in my ass."_

_"True," she concedes. She had tried— oh, how she'd tried. When Emma finds something she's good at, she goes at it with everything she has, and she was_ really _good at riling Regina up.  "I spent a lot of time daydreaming about you taking me under your tree."_

_Laughter precedes a raised brow. "Really?"_

_"Mhmm." Nodding, she says, "I always thought it hilarious we have different names for that day."_

_Regina grins. "The Chainsaw Incident?"_

_"Yeah. I called it the Dawning in my head." Emma chuckles before noting the quizzical glance and explains, "As in, I realized I was incredibly attracted to you."_

_"That was…" Regina pauses, an increasingly deep frown on her brow. "—your second day in Storybrooke?"_

_"Uh huh." The amount of time she spent thinking about Regina back then, about all the ways she might take her down a peg or, at the very least, shut her up for a while; it wasn't healthy, and that's without the many, many times she'd almost given in and tried something. "I'm not as slow as you think."_

_Regina adopts a wry smile. "Just good at pretending?"_

_"Nah, more like good at repressing." She sighs, then adds, "Around you, anyway."_

_"I wish you hadn't."_

_"Come on," she groans because seriously? Regina would have laughed at her no matter what she was secretly feeling. "You may like me now but you hated me back then. I wasn't getting involved in a hate-sex affair with my son's mother."_

_"You might have grown on me sooner," Regina argues and Emma snorts._

Like hell.

_"Please. You'd have gotten sick of me fleeing your bedroom in the middle of the night and avoiding you during the day. You liked fighting me too much."_

_"As if the feeling wasn't mutual."_

_"No, it was," she agrees. It was definitely mutual. Seeing that fire in those eyes—the lip scar as Regina's mouth contorted with all those sneers. Gods_ yes _, of course it was mutual. "I didn't want to screw it up."_

_Regina stares at her for a solid minute, disbelief and determination fading away and leaving behind a softness in the form of warm, chestnut eyes and a faint smile. "And now?"_

_"Well." Emma considers it, still not quite believing the conversation real. No one could have predicted them one day sitting down to talk about whether or not they'd like to sleep with each other. "We don't fight anywhere near as often. You don't hate me… I don't hate you, and we're clearly attracted to each other."_

_Teeth pulling thoughtfully at her lower lip as if waiting for something more, Regina then rolls her eyes and agrees, "Clearly."_

_Shifting as a warmth of another kind fills her, Emma smirks. She shouldn't, but she should and... screw it. If Regina really wants to know, then- "I'd totally order you to mount your desk and ready yourself."_

_Regina huffs, head shaking before it rolls along the back of the couch, away from her. "Idiot."_

Lids fluttering, Emma sighs, woefully less annoyed than she should be at her mind keeping her awake with the memory of that afternoon. It doesn't help that Regina is spooning her side, arm clinging to her waist like she's afraid Emma will levitate from the bed and float away if she doesn't pin her to the mattress like this.

She knows from experience that if she even tries to move the arm, she'll start to feel like she's suffocating because Regina doesn't know her own strength and will tighten her hold to the point Emma worries she might have broken her ribs again. She shouldn't wake her, but if she can't sleep, then all she's doing is laying there thinking about things that will lead to thinking about other things, which, honestly, she's been turned on plenty today; her body has been through enough torture.

"Regina?"

"No," she grumbles before shifting, somehow finding a way to bury her face even deeper into Emma's neck.

Emma didn't think it possible, but obviously she'd been wrong. "So," she drawls, "you _don't_ want to make out then?"

Regina jerks, head snapping up. Eyes having adjusted to the darkness long ago, Emma can see the way she blinks down at her, face twisted in sleepy confusion. "What?"

It's adorable.

"What," she repeats innocently. She wasn't serious. Not really, but seeing Regina like this, she's not so sure now.

Groaning, a hand fists the front of her tank. Her mind shorts, the thought of Regina ripping it from her doing those _things_ to her body she mentioned earlier. "Emma," Regina growls, impatient— annoyed like Emma thinks she should have been but is somehow… no longer, if ever she were.

She clears her throat, echoing her former, " _What?_ " but actually meaning it this time because she's suddenly forgotten why Regina is even speaking to her when she's meant to be sleeping.

"I ought to slap you for waiting until I was half asleep."

Emma stares up at her, knowing that if she tries to close her eyes to take in the very deep breath she so desperately needs, her brain will take it as consent to go down the very narrow track it's heading towards.

"I loathe you."

Her brow furrows. "Well that's—" not nice.

A mouth claims the rest of her sentence while her brain stops dead. Fingers weaving through brunette hair of their own accord, Emma tugs Regina down on top of her and deepens the kiss before either of them can change their mind.

Simultaneous moans vibrate between them and then Regina is straddling her, releasing her tank to clasp the side of her neck. Emma groans, feeling the nails pierce the base of her skull and rake down, skin prickling as a rush of heated arousal spreads through her.

"You absolute idiot," Regina gasps, sucking in a breath and not even giving Emma time to respond before she dives right back in, tongue thrusting into her mouth.

Emma can't quite find it in herself to complain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have now officially lead myself here. Good job, me.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RATING CHANGE. It's capitalized so you don't SKIP IT and WHINE AT ME LATER. 
> 
> Ahem. Along with a FTB (Sort of. And it means Fade to Black. Stop asking) we're starting this chapter with a FIFB (Fade in from Black. I made it up. Now you don't need to ask) which means, yay, smut. Kind of. Not sure what I was thinking with only 1000 words to work with, to be honest.
> 
> No complaining.
> 
> Unless you're complaining about there being smut, in which case; you're a weirdo. 
> 
> So...
> 
> No complaining.

Negligee pushed up to her ribs to reveal what lay beneath and pulled down respectively, exposing her chest, Regina twitches occasionally, blissfully unaware of anything that isn't Emma's hands or mouth on her skin. She doesn't quite understand how it is she came to be on her back, or when Emma had climbed on top of her, but she can't bring herself to care when Emma is doing such delicious things to her.

Had she known what Emma was capable of, she'd have planned for them to get to this point a lot sooner than they had.

Hands twisting in Emma's hair, she tugs gently, needing to reacquaint herself with that wonderful mouth. Emma glances up, said mouth twisted in a grin that has Regina surging up and forward.

They're rolling again and then she's back on top, their lips locked in a passionate kiss. Keeping one hand in her hair to discourage Emma from trying to pull away, Regina slides the other to her chest, fingers brushing a still clothed but beautifully hardened nipple before continuing on, down the length of Emma's long mouth-watering torso, to slip beneath her tank.

Emma moans softly, stomach muscles clenching in time with her strokes as Regina's own clench with the sound, the wetness between her thighs worsening the longer she resists sliding just a little bit lower to claim the very thing she's been after this whole time.

Well— one of them. Emma's heart will keep and, in time, she'll claim that too but for now, for now she wants one thing, and one thing only.

Tearing her mouth from Emma's, she breathes, "Say yes," and latches on to her throat, feeling her swallow as she gently bites down.

"Yes," Emma husks, tilting her head back; no questions, nor hesitation. "Whatever you want."

Regina chuckles, as amused as she is pleased. When her fingers dip beneath the waistband of Emma's shorts and her only response is a breathless, "oh," Regina grins and pushes further, delving deeper.

Slick heat coats her hand. They both moan. Regina nibbles her jaw, tongue soothing what minor pain she causes before it sweeps across to the lobe of Emma's ear and she takes it into her mouth, sucking harshly.

Releasing it, voice low, she purrs, "You are positively drenched."

"Mmm," Emma hums. Her head lolls and they share another kiss before she breaks it to murmur, "Your fault."

Again, Regina chuckles, definitely more pleased this time. She rises up. "You cannot begin to grasp the depths of how thrilled I am to hear that."

Removing the hand from Emma's hair, she gestures, summoning the light to see her more clearly by. Her breath hitches; such pretty green eyes, blown wide with lust.

Lips dancing with her grin, Emma cocks an eyebrow. "You sure about that?" Fingers brush the side of her breast before Emma captures it in her palm, gently kneading, making Regina moan again. "Because I'm rather thrilled myself."

Laughing throatily, Regina lowers her head and kisses her, already thoroughly addicted to those lips. She longs to turn back time to undo all they've wasted being on opposite sides but, for now, she decides she'll settle for this and shifts, savouring the sound and feel of Emma's pleasure as she grinds her hips into the back of her hand.

Sooner than either of them would like, she wants more.

Emma tries to lure her back, hand flat against her chest as it moves to her shoulder. Regina shivers but her determination trumps temptation, just. She captures the hand and thrusts it down to the mattress, kissing her way along Emma's jaw and down her throat to her chest where all she needs to do is think before Emma's tank disappears and she can wrap her lips around those taunting nipples, licking and sucking until Emma begins to squirm uncomfortably.

Taking some pity on her, Regina continues downwards, slipping the hand from those tight green shorts of hers. Emma whines but an impatient tug has her raising her hips before Regina slides the offending material down enough for Emma's thighs to welcome her between them.

A deep, satisfied groan is all the warning she gives before her mouth is, finally, exactly where she wants it. Blunt nails claw at her wrist as Emma arches from the bed, an indecipherable moan of _something_ falling from her mouth as lips, teeth and tongue assault her sex.

Neither know how long it's been by the time they're spent but the sun is close to rising and that is enough for them to know it's been hours.

With Regina collapsed on top of her, Emma strokes her back as she muses aloud, "Remind me why we didn't do this sooner?"

"You have commitment issues," Regina mumbles against her throat, then bites her. Emma twitches, wishing she had the energy to continue. Her inner masochist _really_ likes those teeth. "You're also annoyingly stubborn."

"So it's all my fault?"

"Mmm," Regina hums, kissing her jaw as she purrs, "Everything wrong has always, and will always, be your fault. Forever. No exceptions."

Emma squints up at the ceiling, almost completely certain that isn't in any way true but hesitant to argue. Because _reasons_. "If I agree," she says slowly, "does that mean we can do this again?"

"We'll be doing this again regardless." She grins, not disappointed in the least. "Your agreement might endear you to me enough to cook you whatever you'd like for dinner tonight, however."

Okay, she's much less excited about that.

Regina knows what she wants.

She always knows.

It's freaky.

"I'll think about it."

Feeling her smirk, she glances down just as Regina replies, "You have 5 seconds."

"You have like 10 h—"

"2 seconds," she interrupts.

"That was not—

"Half a—"

Eyes rolling, Emma caves, "Fine. Everything is my fault."

"Good girl." Raising the limp hand from her shoulder, Regina lazily pats her cheek. "Now let me sleep."

Sighing, Emma closes her eyes before she remembers, "We have work in a few hours."

"You have work in a few hours," Regina counters, yawning as she drapes a thigh over her, the rest of her body going the way of her hand as it falls limp. "I'm taking the day off."

"Well that's not fair."

"Take it up with the Mayor."


	13. Chapter 13

"Spontaneous dinner invitation."

"We eat dinner together every night." Looking up from her paperwork, Emma notices Henry and smiles. "Hey kid."

"Ma," he mumbles, clearly sulking when he throws himself onto a vacant chair.

Regina ignores her questioning glance as she replies, "Not from me. Your mother."

Emma sighs. Her mother is beginning to grate on her nerves. "More wonderful news?"

Something to do with the baby, no doubt. Probably bought the poor sod another gender-neutral onesie and wanted to show it off because she's so _proud_ of how _open-minded_ she is six months before the kid is even born.

"How should I know?"

"You know everything," she replies, lashes fluttering innocently.

Regina peers up at her from her phone, and promptly rolls her eyes. "Only things I care about."

Emma shrugs, eying Henry because he's staring at her like a little creeper. "Tell her I'm sick," she suggests, sneaking a blank piece of paper off her desk and sliding it into her lap.

"She'll probably bring soup."

True, then they'd all end up having dinner together whether they liked it or not. She loves her mother, but she is _not_ going to share a meal with her every day of every week for the rest of her pregnancy because David is doing everything in his power to avoid her as much as possible. You know you're crazy when even your True Love wants to flee in terror the second you enter the room.

"Tell her you're sick?"

Regina smirks. "She'll probably bring fire."

Also true.

Because Snow thinks she's funny.

And Regina won't stop encouraging her, even though she complains after every single damn visit she has to listen to Snow talk about babies.

"Tell her—"

"Tell her I'll come to get away from you two," Henry says, glaring at them both.

Emma tilts her head. She has no idea what his problem is but for that she says, "Tell her Henry's grounded."

"That… may actually work." Fingers flying over the keyboard of her phone, Regina grins when it beeps, then drops it into her purse. "We're safe." She gestures to Henry. "Ignore him. He's upset we went to the movies without him."

"You went and saw _the Lego Movie_ without me," he corrects before Emma throws her ball of paper at him. He scowls while she laughs because she'd hit him square in the middle of his forehead. "Real mature, ma."

She sticks her tongue out at him and feigns ignorance to the fact she can see Regina off to the side attempting to hold in her laughter. "What happened to kids thinking going to the movies with their parents is _uncool_?"

"Uh, I'm not _stupid_ ," he retorts. "Mom always lets you pick the movie, and you buy a whole row of junk food every time. I'm not missing out on that to be _cool_."

Grinning, she turns to Regina and asks, "How is it you managed to raise him as a mix of me and you?"

"Meeting you ruined everything," she replies, smile tugging at her mouth. "You're a terrible influence."

Emma nods and admits, "I'm almost ashamed." She might be, if not for the warmth of the feeling she has whenever he proves just how much he is _theirs_ and not just _hers_ or Regina's.

Sitting back as Regina rounds her desk to take up residence in her lap, she opens her mouth to question them on why they're really here, when she hears the quiet, "oh," from just outside her office and her gaze darts to the door.

Her father stands there wearing a look of confusion as he stares at Regina. Emma rests a hand on her thigh when she tries to move, and squeezes. "Hey Dad." The speed at which his face changes from looking lost to being overjoyed is hilarious. "Henry was just telling us he'd rather spend time with us than be cool."

David's confusion returns as he looks to his grandson and asks, "How is that not cool? They're sorceresses who protect us from monsters on a regular basis. How many of your friends' parents do that?"

Henry sighs. "Gramps…" He shakes his head with a mumbled, "You don't get it."

"I really don't," David admits as he glances between Regina and Emma in askance.

"I don't get it either," Emma lies, forcing herself to frown to stop herself from laughing. "We're badass witches. I fight crime. Regina runs a whole town by herself; we're totally cool."

When he groans and she finally starts to laugh, Regina smacks her. "Stop teasing him," she chides playfully. "It isn't his fault he doesn't know how lame his friends and their parents are. He's a teenager, teenagers are idiots."

"It's also genetic," Emma reminds her.

"Yes," Regina agrees, "It's also genetic." She pats the hand on her thigh. "Thank you, dear."

"You're welcome, dear."

"Should I be offended?" David questions, unintentionally interrupting their moment.

"Yes," they reply simultaneously.

Turning their gazes on him, he raises his hands. "Just checking," he says. From the corner of his mouth, he asks Henry in an exaggerated whisper, "Wanna come to the diner with me?"

"He's grounded," Emma interjects as Henry practically bolts from his chair.

"What?" He freezes, eyes wide. His lower lip wobbles for pure effect. "Really?"

"No," she drawls, taking pity on him because that face is all kinds of atrocious and guilt inducing. "But if Snow sees you, she'll know Regina is a terrible, awful liar and I'll be forced to tell her where Dad is every time he hides from her because it'll be all his fault, and Regina will blame me."

Nodding along with her every word, Regina is about to confirm her conclusion when David suddenly blurts, "You lied to Snow?"

"I always lie to Snow," she admits, brow furrowing. Bar Emma and Henry, she lies to everyone. If she didn't, she'd probably set them on fire. "Why is this a surprise to you?"

"Huh."

Emma grins. His thoughts are written all over his face. She understands the conflict, having felt the same thing a time or two before she decided keeping anything from Regina simply isn't worth the stress. If he tells Snow about Regina lying to him, she'll try her best to distract Regina from getting her revenge.

"Wanna come to our house for another hour or two of escape?"

Both of his brows rise in surprise as he repeats, "Our house?"

Emma shrugs. It's what she calls it in her head, she might as well start doing it out loud as well. "She's practically moved in, it might as well be."

"She has?"

" _She_ has a name," Regina growls, eyes narrowing. Emma bites her lip, chuckling inwardly. "And yes, Charming, I have. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Uh…" He glances to Emma for help and when she slowly shakes her head, he pastes on a smile she thinks might be a slight overdone as he says, "Nope. No problem."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been unofficial since the first chapter and now, 12 chapters later, it's official; Emma is whipped.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I updated today already but this took like 5 minutes and it's connected, so... shush.

Sometimes, when Emma allowed herself to hope a little too much and she pictured something like _this_ with Regina, she'd always imagined she'd be the one moving her things into the house on 108. She didn't think about it often and when she did, it was mostly about being in the same house as her son, rather than moving in with her girlfriend. Yes, she was and remains attracted to Regina, but she hadn't considered a relationship with her until more recently and this— three days after they talked about making it permanent rather that just an unspoken agreement between them, she's lugging boxes through her front door and it's… kind of weird.

Despite Regina's belief to the contrary, she doesn't have commitment issues. Not wanting to commit and being afraid to, are two completely different things. When it comes to Regina, the commitment has been there from almost day one. Just because she didn't know it at the time, doesn't mean it wasn't true. That's not weird. What's weird is that she _isn't_ moving in to 108. Regina is willingly leaving her home for the past thirty odd years to move in to a place Emma has barely owned more than six months.

They'd decided together to make it official, and somehow left out which of them would be the one to move. To say she'd been surprised when she woke up this morning and Regina informed her she would be helping move her things would be an understatement. Her house is nothing special. There's no attachment, not yet, and yet…

Head shaking, she sets the most recent box down beside the staircase next to all the others and stretches as she straightens. Turning, she finds Regina leaning against the doorway, eyes a little too low for her to have been staring anywhere even remotely appropriate.

Emma grins. "Checking me out, Mills?"

The eyes flick up, but only to her chest. The answer is quite clearly yes, though Regina wouldn't be Regina if she didn't try to deny it. "I'm checking for injuries," she lies, mouth twitching when Emma snorts.

"Sure you are."

Pushing from the doorway, she saunters closer, gaze slowly tracking the path up along Emma's neck. She sucks on her lower lip when their eyes do eventually meet and Emma grabs her by the hips.

"That was the last one," Regina informs, winding arms around her neck.

Emma frowns, certain there'd been more. "No it wasn't."

"Yes," Regina purrs, leaning in, "it was. I magicked the rest to our room." Glancing down to the fifteen or so she'd already moved, Emma almost whines before a kiss to her cheek has her lids fluttering, and she sighs. "Watching you carry them _has_ been thoroughly enjoyable."

A sound of exasperation sticks in the back of her throat.

Regina chuckles and waits for Emma to glare at her before she kisses her again. It's slow and soft, and Emma gives in with no coaxing whatsoever as she melts into it and wraps Regina in her embrace.

Regina pulls back after a moment but only enough to rest their heads together. "You looked lost in thought," she reasons with a wry smile. "I didn't want to interrupt your fantasies to remind you we have magic."

When she then wrinkles her nose and says, "You stink," Emma rolls her eyes and takes a step back.

"It's hot and I carried half of your house into here, what'd you expect?"

"You to agree to shower," Regina counters with a smirk. "Under the condition that I join you, naturally."

Smiling, Emma's chin hits her chest. Regina erases the step and drops a kiss to the top of her head before she raises it with a hand pressed to her jaw. "Idiot?" Emma guesses as to the reason for the affection she sees on her face.

Regina nods. "My idiot now," she says, stroking her cheek. "Just when I'm growing attached to your perverted ways, you take me seriously and get all offended." They kiss languidly before she asks, "Is something wrong?"

Chuckling, Emma shakes her head. Only Regina would think something is wrong when she _isn't_ being a pervert. "No, my head was just... not gleefully rolling around in the gutter for once."

"That poor thing." Regina mock pouts and Emma laughs as the palm moves to her forehead. She leans back away from it before it drops to her shoulder and Regina grins. "If you're ill, we _could_ turn that shower into a sponge bath."

"I'm starting to think _I'm_ not the actual pervert in this relationship."

"And you claimed not to be as slow as I thought," Regina drawls, nipping her lower lip. "Such lies you tell yourself. How _do_ you sleep at night?"

"I used to drink but lately there's been this sexy, naked woman wrapped around me and for some reason, I haven't needed to drink since."

"Oh, so you were a pervert _and_ an alcoholic." Regina sighs, dejection in her voice. "I miss all the fun and now I'm stuck with you."

"Worse." Pretend horror contorting her expression, Emma nods as she slides her arms back around Regina's waist. She tugs them back together and murmurs, "You moved in with me, so now you can't kick me out when you've had enough."

Regina gasps though its playfulness is lost when she frowns suddenly in realization. "Is _this_ what you were thinking about earlier?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you not want me to move in?"

Quick to reassure her, Emma shakes her head, hating herself for the look of hurt that flashes in chestnut eyes. "It's not that," she says, "I just thought…"

The frown deepens. "What?"

"I thought you'd want me to move in with you," she admits with a sigh, shrugging and averting her gaze.

Regina draws it back with a finger beneath her chin. She smiles softly and questions, "Did you want to?"

Again, Emma shrugs. "I'm fine either way," she answers truthfully. She's moved too often for it to actually mean anything anymore. "I just figured since it was your home for so long and you have all those memories there…"

"Oh."

"Oh?"

Regina nods. "It didn't occur to me to be honest," she confesses. Emma's chest warms when she adds, "You're here. I may have called that place home for three decades but for a majority of that time I was alone until Henry came along and while yes, he made it feel more like home, it was the Queen's idea of home, not mine."

Emma grins, not caring that she probably looks especially dopey right now. "I'm your idea of home?"

"You," Regina repeats, eyes rolling as her grin somehow widens. "Henry too, and the memories we already have here."

Emma narrows her eyes, adamant when she says, "You're not ruining this for me, Mills. I'm your home. You said it."

Sighing, Regina can't help but grin and shake her head. "Yes, I did. I also mentioned a shower earlier, if you'll recall. Why are we not still talking about that?"

Letting Regina go, her frown barely has time to form before Emma grabs her hand and drags her up the stairs, commenting, "For that confession, Mills, you can have all the showers you want."


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does this feel almost finished to you? It feels almost finished to me. Quick, someone throw me an idea that doesn't involve babies, marriage, ~~evil threesomes~~ , time/dimension travel, love triangles, Snow White, or anything that might result in angst, necessary or otherwise, that no one (especially me) wants.
> 
> …
> 
> I have ideas, okay? They're all stupid, overdone and awful. Except the threesome one, which I will totally write again. Let's be honest; I'm lacking good ideas, I'm not a liar.
> 
> Help.

 

"Emma."

"Noooo."

Sighing, Regina crawls onto the bed, positioning herself above the infuriating woman on all fours. In the most frustrating way imaginable, Emma's refusal to get up is… endearing, adorable. Completely and utterly ridiculous. "Emma," she repeats, elbows bent as she brings their faces close together.

A green eye peeks open, pink lips quirking. "I'm sleeping, Regina."

"Are you?" She questions, lowering her hips until she's straddling Emma's waist. "That's unfortunate." She grinds down on the muscles beneath her, her moan only slightly exaggerated before she says, "I had such plans for you."

"Plans that involve me getting out of bed," Emma murmurs while grabbing her thighs, forcing her still. "I wasn't born yesterday, oh dark temptress of mine."

Regina chuckles and presses a kiss to those still smiling lips. "You promised," she reminds her.

"That was before I knew you were going to wake me at the ass crack of dawn," Emma replies before surprising her and rolling them. Regina inhales sharply as her back hits the mattress. "Nothing is even open yet."

Wrapping an arm around her waist, hand curling around a hip, Regina uses her other hand to clasp the back of her neck and pull Emma down on top of her. "If you think dragging you out of bed to go shopping is the entirety of my plan, you don't know me half as well as you might think."

It was, admittedly, most of her plan but when it comes to Emma Swan and the things Regina will confess to, Emma being even mostly right is not one of them. Besides, she hadn't counted on Emma being _this_ resistant to the idea. If she had, her attempt to coax her out of bed might have been a tiny bit more subtle.

"You," Emma growls playfully, settling comfortably on top of her, "are a terrible liar."

"You—" _love me_. Biting her tongue before letting that little awkwardness slip and embarrassing herself, she changes course and mutters, "are annoying."

Emma's expression; playful one minute, is thoughtful in the next as she studies her. Regina quickly raises her head and kisses Emma, distracting her. It might not be too early in the morning for grocery shopping, but it is definitely too early in the morning for the conversation they would end up having were Emma to somehow guess at the direction of her thoughts.

It's too soon. She knows that. She doesn't need to burden Emma with her insecurities.

Emma kisses her back and sighs when they part, content. She follows Regina's head back down to the pillow, shifting slightly to fall within the crook of her neck. "Just a few more minutes," she mumbles.

Regina nods, assuming she feels it when Emma relaxes and a nose nuzzles her jaw before lips come to rest against her pulse. She spends minutes at a time staring up at the ceiling and keeping her thoughts at bay.

Time passes unnoticed, as does Emma falling back to sleep.

Her moan is what yanks Regina from her inner turmoil after what might have been hours of them lying there in complete silence because Emma (is odd) doesn't snore. Regina twists until Emma is half on her side and half on the bed and she can look at her face. She smirks, finally awake and present to enjoy one of those dreams Emma is always teasing her with as she watches it play out on that beautiful face.

Lips parted, cheeks a light pink; she starts to regret all those times she's woken up early and left Emma to sleep away the morning.

She certainly regrets it when Emma begins to rock against her hip, and she bites her lip. Hair falling to obscure Emma's face, Regina reaches up and tucks it behind her ear, stomach flipping when Emma moves, drawn by the heat of her palm.

"Emma," she whispers, immediately throwing away all of her plans for the day. She's the Mayor; she can take another day off, give Emma the day off. They'll go shopping later. "Wake up."

All that gets her is a sigh. She tells herself she should have expected as much before the next idea forms in her head and then she's reaching beneath Emma, doing what she should have done all along as her hand slips between warm, soft thighs to find the slick, wet heat waiting for her.

Her touch is enough to awaken Emma and she moans the moment her eyes open, green eclipsed by black. "Regina," Emma husks, trapping her hand as she presses her thighs together. "We've been over this."

"You don't have to get up," she counters, almost growling. She is more than happy to do all the work. "Roll over and let go."

Emma opens her mouth— to argue, protest, whine; Regina doesn't care. With a tug from the hand still around her hip and a shove from the one between her legs, Regina forces her to her back, pinning Emma to the bed with her hips.

"I _am_ going to pleasure you, _Princess_ ," she purrs, leaning forward. She twists her wrist, hand cupping Emma's sex. "And you are going to _love_ it."

Emma breathes out a laugh. Her thighs loosen their hold as she places an arm beneath her head. Brow cocked in challenge, she says, "Bring it, _Your Majesty_."


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm not a liar. I was just wrong. Unlike Regina, I WILL admit it.
> 
> I'm just... going to sit in the corner now.

"Kid-free weekend! Party time!"

"No," Regina says from her position on the floor, legs stretched towards the ceiling.

Emma rounds the couch, taking her ankles in hand. She presses Regina's feet to her stomach, pushing her to her back as she leans over them, hanging over her like some limp marionette whose strings have been cut. Regina stares up at her blankly, unimpressed with the pout she wears.

"Your ass looks fantastic in those yoga pants," Emma says; a poor attempt to change her manipulation tactic, assuming Regina has any say in the matter.

Which she does.

Because this is Emma.

And Emma is wrong. Always and forever.

"My ass looks fantastic in everything," she replies, shoving Emma back before she lowers her legs to the floor and sits up, crossing them. "And I am not spending the weekend hungover in bed with you, again."

Once was enough, thank you very much.

Emma drops to her knees, the pout full-blown as she falls forward onto her hands. Regina eyes her, wary. The pout won't sway her, but the temptation of having those lips so very close to her might.

"Get away from me." Grinning, Emma shakes her head and leans closer. Regina leans back, gaze narrowing because that grin does not say _you'll give in before I do_. No, it says she missed the point entirely and should probably brace herself. "What?"

A brow rises slowly, grin changing into a decidedly filthy smirk that even she can be proud of. Her mouth dries as Emma continues to inch forward and she quickly darts her hands out behind her, falling back to provide Emma the opening she needs to crawl into her lap.

"I never said anything about drinking." Regina follows the path of her tongue swiping along her lower lip before Emma lowers her voice, throated and full of promise when she says, "In fact, I don’t recall even mentioning leaving the house."

Regina groans, knowing full well she's lost this round entirely as she raises a hand and grabs her by the hair. "If you turn this around and use it against me later to go out with you," she warns, "Your death will be neither pleasant, nor swift."

"I wouldn't dare," Emma murmurs. "I'm just giving you what you want— you wanted me all to yourself, remember? You've got me. I'm all yours, Madam Mayor."

Satisfied with the comment (she doesn't believe it for a second), Regina tips her head forward and captures her mouth. She hums when Emma's tongue teases her lips, granting it entrance as her own rises to welcome it, coaxing it down deep into her mouth for her to suck on.

When a hand pushes against her chest, she obliges. Sliding the arm out from behind her, she lies back, breaking the kiss to let Emma know, "You know I know you're full of shit, yes?"

Laughing, Emma nods. "Of course," she says, lips brushing her jaw before sliding down along her throat. "But you'll enjoy what I'm about to do to you," she reasons, nibbling at her pulse before she lifts her head and winks. "And isn't that the important thing here?"

Forgoing her answer (which is of course yes, and Emma damn well knows it) Regina allows her head to fall to the carpet, breath slowing with every kiss placed against her skin. For every suck of that skilled mouth and every caress of Emma's hands as they divest her of her clothes, her arousal spikes, heat growing in the pit of her stomach.

By the time all her clothes are gone and Emma has her spread before her, there's a thick fog in her mind that covers all of her thoughts bar one; Emma has turned the goddamn table on her.

Thinking about it, she realizes Emma did it quite awhile ago and has been taking cues from her ever since; the increasingly common shared lunches, the seductions wherein, much like her letting Emma choose their movies or what they have for dinner, Emma gives her exactly what she wants. Again, like Emma, she is a simple woman with simple needs; lust when love hasn't quite blossomed, a warm body to curl up with at night. Emma has started to challenge her a little more often too, sating her desire to argue whenever the mood strikes.

Emma, despite being drunk herself, had even taken it upon herself to take care of her when they made the stupid decision to indulge and genuinely get drunk. Emma carried her to the bathroom when she decided she needed to vomit, then coaxed her back to bed when she tried to convince her she should just live in the bathroom. She'd woken up the next morning with the worst hangover of her life and found a glass of water along with some aspirin and a plate of food that would ordinarily have turned her stomach just… sitting there, waiting for her— taunting her, she'd decided at the time. As if she hadn't felt terrible enough, she'd had to force herself to move out of Emma's arms before she could touch any of it.

Feeling that gorgeous mouth making its way down her stomach, Regina grips the back of Emma's head. Emma pauses to glance up at her with an impish grin, which tells her precisely _everything_.

"I know what you're doing," she croaks, fingers slipping from hair without input from her brain.

Chuckling, Emma kisses her hip and murmurs, "I wouldn't have believed otherwise," before descending between thighs and robbing her of all remaining thought.


	17. Chapter 17

Rolling from the bed, Regina barely makes it to her feet before the overwhelming urge to be sick multiplies. Closing her eyes, she breathes in deeply, and regrets it instantly as her eyes snap open and she rushes to the bathroom. Emma is in the shower, which is strange but not what she focuses on as she falls to her knees in front of the toilet.

The shower turns off just as she heaves and then there is a hand in her hair while another strokes her back. Her eyes dart to the thighs on either side of her, bare and pink from the heat of Emma's shower. She groans, then covers her head with both arms, willing her thoughts away as the sudden jolt of arousal sends her stomach into overdrive.

"This is familiar."

Yes, except she hasn't gone drinking in over two weeks because Emma has actually kept her promise and not tried to convince her after the last time.

Swallowing, Regina drops her arms to the toilet seat and rolls her head, resting it against her bicep. Never in her life has she ever felt as awful as she does in this moment. "Just kill me," she pleads, "and get it over with."

"Sorry," Emma says, genuinely sounding contrite. She stands and massages the back of Regina's neck as she questions, "Think there's more?"

Eyes slipping shut, Regina waits to see. When minutes have passed with only a few dry heaves, she shakes her head and Emma helps her stand. She leads her to the sink and stands behind her, keeping Regina upright with the rest of her body while her hands set to work retrieving some painkillers from the bathroom cabinet and filling a glass of water.

Rinsing first, then drinking what remains, Regina sighs before pressing herself more firmly into the body behind her. Emma strokes her stomach with one hand, offering comfort and warmth until she can walk on her own, or at least until Emma can convince her to move again and lead her back to the bedroom.

"Think it was something from last night?"

Regina nods because that has to be it. "Unless there's a bug going around that I don't know about," she murmurs, head dropping back against a shoulder. Emma kisses her temple and wraps both arms around her when she sighs. "Why aren't you sick?"

"I've eaten a lot of questionable things over the years."

Grimacing, Regina closes her eyes and says, "I guess being a bottomless pit has its advantages."

Emma chuckles. "Yes, it does." Another minute or two passes in silence before she questions, "Would you mind if I carried you? It's getting kinda cold in here."

Head shaking, Emma is then lifting her into her arms and walking them into their bedroom. She lays Regina gently back in their bed and kisses her forehead before she tries to step back. Regina grabs her wrist, peering up at her with one eye when she asks, "Where do you think you're going?"

Shrugging, Emma easily breaks free of the hold and captures her hand, entwining their fingers as she explains, "I thought I'd get dressed, then go and yell at mom for not listening to you."

Appealing as the thought is, if she can't watch Snow squirm with guilt, it isn't worth the bother. Smiling, Regina closes the eye again and replies, "I'd prefer you skip the dressing and come back to bed."

"You're sick." Emma protests.

"In more ways than one," she agrees, smirking. "But not what I meant." Loath as she is to admit it when it very well could have been what she meant had Snow not poisoned her. "I'd rather you here, holding me, than down the road yelling at your mother because she can't cook."

Without saying anything, Emma releases her hand and the bed dips, jostling Regina until Emma lies comfortably between her and the wall. Regina rolls over, burying her head in Emma's chest.

"Can I yell at her when you feel better?"

Lips against her sternum, Regina chuckles, kissing her before she breathes, "Oh yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rushed this one because I'm sick and ended up sleeping for 15 hours. Sorry it's not longer, or funnier. I, like Regina, don't function well when I'm sick.
> 
> And yes, she is genuinely sick, this has nothing to do with babies. Please don't add nausea to my problems by suggesting otherwise. I don't vomit, nausea is not nice.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, telamon, for reminding me of the original prompt. And thank you, whoever it was (it's 2am, I can't be bothered searching through 100+ comments) that reminded me they hadn't specifically 'told' anyone yet. In all fairness, I think my not being bothered is a suitable punishment for my having to include Snow.

"No."

"But—"

"But no."

"Regina."

Sighing, she lifts her head and deadpans, "Emma."

"I swear to God—"

"Go ahead," she interjects, "it's still no."

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

"That's not a reason."

Smirking, she places her pen down and sits back. Why bother with work when Emma has brought it upon herself to amuse her instead. "Isn't it?"

Emma huffs and the smirk widens in triumph. It is a reason. Emma knows it. She knows it. The entire town knows it. "No," Emma says anyway. Unsurprisingly. She pouts. "I nursed you back to health."

Head cocked, Regina counters, "Have I not done the same for you?" If they were keeping score, she's fairly certain she is ahead by at least half a dozen times.

Walking over to her desk, Emma presses her hands against its surface and bends over as she growls, "It's not the same."

"No," Regina agrees, "given that I don't try to use the fact against you, I suppose not."

Before Emma can reply, Snow wanders in. They've both turned to glare at her when she notices and freezes.  "Um. What's going on?"

Waving dismissively for Emma to answer her, Regina goes back to her work. She'd forgotten Snow was waiting for her. Unfortunately.

Emma sighs, dejected, and says, "Regina won't share her butterscotch cupcake recipe with me."

"Oh." Snow chuckles. "She doesn't share her recipes with anyone. Everyone knows that."

"I'm not _anyone_ ," Emma counters, "I'm her—"

Regina glances up, amused. They still haven't told Snow yet, even though she seems to be the only person left who hasn't figured it out. David is likely gaining ulcers from having kept it from her for so long.

Snow's frowning at Emma when she prompts, "You're her what?"

"Yes Emma," Regina coos, her brow raised in challenge. "You're my what?"

Gaze dancing between them, Emma clenches her jaw before her eyes narrow. Regina blinks as her expression then smoothens and Emma's mouth quirks. "I'm her girlfriend," she states matter-of-factly. Folding her arms, she adds, "And as her girlfriend, she should share all of her secrets with me."

Intrigued, Regina ignores Snow's gaping mouth and leans forward. "All of them, hmm?"

Emma nods, looking relatively pleased with herself. "Uh huh."

Regina doesn't blame her; she's rather pleased with Emma too. "Not just my cupcakes?"

"Nuh uh."

"Interesting." Standing, she rounds her desk to stand beside Emma. "Snow," she drawls, "I believe I'll need to take a rain check on lunch."

"Now wait—"

With a flick of her wrist, Snow disappears from her office. Emma grins and says, "You're going to regret that."

Regina shrugs and slides in between her and the desk, sitting. In a week or two when Snow has come to terms with them dating, then she might concern herself with regrets but until then she couldn't care less. "I am far more interested in this sharing of secrets," she murmurs, capturing Emma's hips. "Given your request, I think you should go first."

"No," Emma argues. "I probably just gave my mother an aneurysm. You owe me for that alone. You first."

Head tilted, Regina considers it. Emma did do that and while she'd gotten rid of Snow well before she could enjoy the very likely meltdown Snow's brain had been in process of, it is still worth _something_ in return. She concedes, "Alright," and grins as she admits, "I stole a pair of your shorts this morning."

Emma tries to respond but whatever the words, her mouth closes before she utters them and she glances down, curiosity on her face. Smirking, Regina moves her hand from a hip to her waist and pops the button on her slacks, tugging the opening to one side to reveal the dark purple ones she'd pilfered from her drawer while Emma slept on, oblivious to the theft.

"I don't know why I think that's hot, but it is." Emma shakes her head before meeting her unashamed stare, and chuckles. "Do this often?"

"First time," Regina admits. She's wanted to many times in the past but had always managed to talk herself out of it. For some reason, today had been different, though she still doesn't know why. "It's salted caramel, by the way." Emma frowns and she explains, "The frosting on the cupcakes. I also use margarine to make them, not butter."

"Why?"

"It's better for your cholesterol," she reasons as she moves to zip and button her trousers.

"Of course it is," Emma murmurs, stilling her hands with her own.

Regina glances up, confused. "What?"

"Anyone ever told you you're a health freak?"

"No," she replies with a frown. "Is that bad?"

Smiling, Emma tugs on her waistband, prompting her to stand, then kisses her. Regina sighs against her mouth, following it with a second when Emma pulls back to say, "It's appallingly endearing, actually."

"Oh." Regina smiles and leans in for another kiss before she remembers. She leans back, pausing to clear her throat before she says, "I have work to do."

Humming, Emma lowers her voice. "Strange coincidence," she teases playfully. "I have a _boss_ to do."

"Emma…" Trying to slide out from between her and the desk, Regina sighs as she's immediately tugged back into place. "Emma," she tries again. "I was already cutting it close by agreeing to have lunch with your mother, I—"

Pinning her to the desk with her hips, Emma interrupts, "Don't you want to know my secret?"

Breathe hitching, Regina swallows thickly. Considering the hard bulge currently pressing into her, she's fairly certain she already knows Emma's secret. She squeezes her eyes shut but the grin Emma wears has already seared itself into her mind as a warm, rasped breath caresses her cheek.

"Now would be the time, Regina," Emma husks, flicking the lobe of her ear with the tip of her tongue, " _to mount your desk and ready yourself_."


	19. Chapter 19

Falling into the opposite side of their booth, Emma questions, "Wassat?"

Regina cocks an eyebrow, gaze firmly fixed to the piece of paper in front of her. "Might you at least pretend to be civilized?"

"And not give you reason to scold me?" Taking another bite of her burger, Emma teases, "However would you survive?"

Regina's mouth twitches. Emma has a point, and she knows the only reason Emma does these things is to get a rise out of her. "I don't imagine I would," she drawls, peering up at her finally. "Chiding you for your disgusting habits is clearly the sole purpose of my existence."

Emma nods. "Exactly." She reaches across the table and flicks the edge of the paper. "So, what is it?"

Flipping it over, Regina shows her. "Your son has taken it upon himself to detail every instance in which he has walked in on us being, quote, _inappropriate in the presence of a minor_. Unquote— in order to extort an increase in his allowance."

Emma leans forward, chuckling as she reads a few lines.

  * _Found out you were dating by walking in on you half-dressed and making out on the couch._
  * _Ma gooses mom multiple times a day. Mom giggles. It's weird, ma, stop it._
  * _Can hear noises coming from your bedroom at night. Very scarring._



"That one is a lie," Emma says, pointing to the last. "We put up silencing spells."

"Recently," Regina reminds, smirking. "You'll recall into the second week of us having sex, we forgot he was home."

"Oh yeah." He'd banged on the wall repeatedly and screamed _I can hear you_ , which made them promptly break out in laughter. Emma sighs wistfully. "That was a fun night."

"Indeed." Regina inclines her head and says, "Keep reading."

  * _Ma constantly sneaks into the shower with mom in the mornings. Mom is not quiet and I have been late to school on more than one occasion._
  * _Seen both in a towel more times than I can count. Need more therapy._
  * _Please wear clothes to bed. No one needs to see that._



"I need to see that," Emma argues, waving the paper away as she falls back against her seat. "And he needs to learn how to knock."

"While I don't disagree with you," Regina admits, setting the paper down. "The fact remains; he does have a solid case against us."

Emma shrugs. "You're still going to lower his allowance to teach him a lesson, right?" He's basically begging them to do it with his snide little side comments. "It's not like he does anything for it to begin with."

Regina narrows her eyes. "Is that a dig at my parenting, Miss Swan?"

"No," she denies but also _yes_. Their son is a spoiled little shit and they both know it, whether they admit it out loud or not. "I just think if he wants a bigger allowance, he should start earning it by doing chores or something. You've fed and clothed him for thirteen years and given him a roof over his head. Our relationship doesn't entitle him to more no matter what he thinks."

When Regina leans forward, elbow on the table and chin in hand, and merely stares at her in silence, Emma frowns. "What?"

"You're very attractive when you're putting your foot down," she murmurs, mouth quirking with her grin.

Emma bites the inside of her cheek. She's starting to think the things that turn Regina on have no end. "Yeah?"

"Mmm."

Bending forward, she folds her arms across the table and questions, "Does that mean I should do it more often?"

Regina's grin widens. "I'm certainly willing to let you try," she purrs before quickly erasing the last few inches between them.

A number of gasps can be heard around the diner but, aside from realizing not _everyone_ knew like Regina previously thought, neither pay them any of their attention. Not until the bell above the door chimes and another, much louder, much more familiar gasp reaches them, at least.

Emma retreats reluctantly and Regina breathes in deeply, slumping back against the booth as her insides virtually scream at her to magick them home so she can have her way with Emma.

"I thought you were just messing with me."

Her sigh audible, Emma tilts her head back to look up at her mother. "While I cannot think of a more pleasurable way to do so, what possible reason could I have had for messing with you?"

"Well…" Snow glances at Regina and Emma rolls her eyes. "Not _you_ —"

"My question remains the same," she interrupts before her mother digs herself into a hole in the ground. "Regina is your friend, and has her fair share of ways to mess with you without hurting me in the process."

Merely listening to her, Regina relaxes, content to let Emma defend her. Emma's protectiveness more than makes up for the implied accusation and it is yet another one of her swan's numerous and varied traits that makes Regina so very, very attracted to her.

Snow shakes her head. "I'm sorry, sweetie. It's just you kind of dropped it on me and then Regina used her magic to send me home and…" She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I didn't meant to accuse anyone of anything. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it is all."

Seeing Emma's expression contort with annoyance and confusion both, Regina swiftly intervenes before she says something she might regret. "I love your daughter, Snow, and we are happy together. That is all you need to know and all that should matter to you."

"Oh!"

"You…" Emma trails off, seemingly rendered speechless as her mouth opens and closes.

Regina smiles softly. It isn't how she wanted to tell her but after living with Emma, she's learned a thing or two. If she didn't say it first, then there was a rather gaping possibility that neither of them ever would and if her saying it here and now just happens to keep Snow off their backs, then so be it.

"Emma?" Blinking at the sound of her mother's voice, she tilts her head back once more. "Are you… okay?"

"I uh… yeah. Yes." Eyes flitting back to Regina, she starts to smile. "Yes," she repeats firmly, grinning. "I love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gay.


	20. Epilogue

"It's been three years!"

"What is she blathering about?"

From the comfort of the couch, Emma glances up from the TV as Regina waltzes in like she owns the place. (She does. Emma added her name to the deed before they'd even been together a year just because Regina didn't believe her when she said she would) She snorts, knowing what her response will be when she says, "Marriage."

"Absolutely not."

Yup. Exactly that. She informs, "Said that already." Among other things, none of which her mother has listened to because she's still upset they both refuse to label what they have as True Love, and therefore everything they say now is considered asinine and irrelevant.

So they've broken a few curses together. Big whoop.

"Snow, what have I told you about your horrible ideas?" Regina glares at her as she swats Emma's feet. Emma sighs, raising both of her legs and setting them back down once she's seated. "No one wants to hear them," Regina adds. "Keep them to yourself."

"It's not a horrible idea!" Realizing her voice is far too high for the slumbering toddler in her arms, Snow winces. Emma rolls her eyes before she gestures, poofing her brother onto her chest where he settles instantly, snoring lightly. Snow blinks, then shakes her head and lowers her voice as she says, "You love each other; you should comm—"

"I don't need a ridiculous piece of paper, a ring or an arrogantly extravagant ceremony filled with people I would sooner sacrifice than celebrate any second of my life with, to know Emma is committed to me," Regina interjects, scoffing. Emma stops stroking Daniel's back to pat the hand curled around her knee in support. "We don't all share your insecurities about the people we claim to love."

An exasperated sort of keening sound escapes Snow's throat. Emma and Regina simply stare at her, more than used to the woman's tendency to over-dramatize virtually everything in life. Regina hadn't thought it possible but after Daniel's birth, Snow has become even more intolerable and even on the best of days, Emma finds it difficult not to agree with her.

Her mother is a pain in the ass.

Which is apparently where she gets it from, if Regina is to be believed.

For the sake of peace and Regina's ability to send her to sleep most nights in the best way possible, Emma chooses to believe her.

Snow huffs. "What about more grandkids? Are you going to deny me those too?"

Regina's the one to snort this time and Emma grins. Henry is likely still scarred from the last conversation they'd had on this very subject. Knowing what childbirth entailed was apparently enough to erase any desire their son had for siblings. The horrified look on his face after Regina made him read about what it does to a woman remains one of the most hilarious things Emma has ever seen.

It is, of course, only one of the reasons in a long list of many for why they probably won't be having any more. The sleepless nights is another. With their schedules, the magical incidents that crop up from time to time, Henry and the rest of their family obligations, they have little enough time for each other as is and neither of them are willing to give up any more.

"Well?"

Emma looks to Regina, having assumed she'd already answered her. Regina frowns. "What?"

Eyes rolling, she drawls, "Yes mom, we're denying you more grandchildren as well."

"Oh. That." Regina sniffs. "Beastly little things." Emma cracks up laughing, waking Daniel in the process. His head jerks up and his lower lip wobbles. Emma doesn't notice until he starts crying, and Regina sighs. "Idiot. Give him here."

As Emma passes him to her, Snow watches them as they try to calm him together. " _Why_?" She cringes at the sound of her own voice, then dismisses the simultaneous brows thrown her way. "You're so _good_ with him," she continues, nodding to her son who's already almost back to sleep again. "I… I don't get it."

"What else is new," Regina murmurs, more to herself than anyone but that doesn't stop them from hearing her. Grinning, Emma nudges her thigh with a toe and Regina sighs before she explains, "Snow, we're good with him because he isn't _ours_."

Snow stares blankly.

"I'm going to kill her," Regina mutters before smacking Emma because she keeps snickering.

"Ow," Emma says half-heartedly, then elaborates, "Mom, we can give him back. We don't have to worry about diapers, or bottles, or taking him to the hospital because he wakes us up in the middle of the night with a weird cough that probably means he put something in his mouth he shouldn't have."

It's selfish, plain and simple. They know and they accept it. "We want our time to be for us," she adds. "This is for _us_ , for Henry, and sometimes you when you can't take no for an answer and barge into our house like you did this morning— which you should never, ever do again because you _will_ get a repeat performance, I guarantee it."

All three of them shudder at the memory. There are just some things a mother should not know about her children. That Emma has developed a profound, and very vocal appreciation for the way Regina chooses to wake her every morning is definitely one of them.

Snow holds up her hands. "I apologized, many times."

Emma smirks. For about an hour, it's all she'd been able to do. They'd worried they'd broken her for a while there.  "And we forgive you," she assures. Regina less so, given it was her Snow had interrupted. "But seriously, never again."

"I _get_ it."

"For your sake, I hope so." Otherwise, she's under no illusions that there will be a lot of pain and fire and threats of a slow, torturous death should it happen again, just like Regina promised while they dressed.

Using the back of the couch to pull herself into a seated position, she kisses Regina's cheek, drawing one of those soft, adoring smiles she's come to know and love.

"What was that for?"

Emma grins and whispers teasingly, "I like your face."

As Regina laughs, Emma sighs, content because as much as she loves a sexually frustrated Regina, a happy Regina is by far her favourite.

 

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary complete, prompt fulfilled, my own beliefs relayed through my two favourite characters on the subjects of marriage and babies; my job is done.
> 
> Serious question, if any of you are still talking to me, did anyone mind the short chapters? They're really easy and I could see myself writing more fics like this if everyone is okay with it. They might even include actual plot. Gasp. Let me know if you're not too busy glaring at your screen and hoping I spontaneously combust in my chair…
> 
> :D


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